


“Tell me, Monsieur, do you know anything of Sweden?”

by Marie_Michon



Category: Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas, The Musketeers (2014), d'Artagnan Romances (Three Musketeers Series) - All Media Types
Genre: Athos is so done with Aramis, Athos/Aramis UST, Cunnilingus, Episode S02E07, F/M, First Time, Missing Scene, Sex Education, The Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3442784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Michon/pseuds/Marie_Michon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you have any idea what it feels like to be a bargain, an add-on to a contract, like an expansive vase to look good around a foreign palace?”<br/>Aramis tried to stop her words by lifting a hand tentatively, extended it towards her shushing her soothingly.<br/>“Shh, Madame…” “…to live only with the double-purpose to act as a hostage and a breeding mare?”<br/>“Madame, I am sure it is not going to be like that! You will be a beloved wife of the Sovereign of Sweden and mother to adorable children.“<br/>“Yeah, well what else could a woman wish for.”<br/>“I am very sure you’ll get to like it. There is nothing to fear!”<br/>“Isn’t there?”<br/>Aramis was sure they were both talking about the same issue, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to get engaged in this topic, even less with the princess, especially in his current position and with Athos' eagle eyes upon him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “Tell me, Monsieur, do you know anything about marriage?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as just the little teaser trailer with the fight around the carriage was out. Please excuse if it doesn't fit with what the whole episode will bring. Or maybe I'll adjust things a bit after it aired.
> 
> And I would like to make a request: If any native English speaker would like to beta / correct this, please let me know. This piece hasn't been checked for "this doesn't work in English" so far. Bear with me, please, or contact me if you'd like to step in!

After the attack and the death of her company, she was alone and felt even more lost, not only because of the loss of her companion, but also because of the unknown future that lay ahead of her.

In her nervousness she started to talk to the soldiers escorting her, seeking diversion and answers at the same time. They were His Majesty’s personal guard. She had seen them all fight to protect her, during the assault, taking out more than double as many attackers as were their own numbers, fast, proficient, and absolutely lethal, all four of them. Her cousin had done well sending them to escort her, otherwise, she'd be captured or dead by now…

 

It was the next Musketeers‘ turn to keep Princess Louise closer company. He was the third one to be commanded to be on personal guard duty.

He was neither as cool as the detached leader of her escort party, Athos, who was of the same distant politeness she was used to from her own guards at home, only with a rougher edge. But he made her feel much safer and was with every bit the commanding veteran soldier who seemed to have everything under control.

Nor was he as sweet as the flirty guy, D’Artagnan, who was clearly overstepping his lines with his looks and his smiles. But she wasn’t going to complain. He was around her age, had given her the cutest puppy dog eyes and was overall talkative.

She’d have loved to have him around her for some time longer and she had chuckled at the stern look Athos had given him when he had retreated on a jerk of Athos’ head and ducked his own head guiltily at the all too familiarly waved good bye when he climbed out of the carriage.

He had been replaced by this one.

Accompanied by a withering stare from Athos, which he returned with as reassuring a downplaying wave of his hand he could manage behind his horses neck, he left his horse tied to the carriage and joined her.

 

His movements as he climbed up the carriage were feral, but be took off his hat with as gracious a sweeping bow as she had ever been a witness of at court as she motioned him to sit opposite her.

This man was older and more composed than D’Artagnan, but his eyes were made of the same vivid onyx; though he seemed to have their sparkle under a tight leash.

He was still handsome, for his age, which might be around those of the other elder Musketeers, and studied her more openly than Athos had. He wore the most charming smile; nevertheless she could sense the cautious soldier beneath his polished mask.

This must be Aramis.

She had heard his name whispered at her court back in Italy.

Not openly, like the one of Athos, the leader of her escort party, valued champion of the French King… no. The way _his_ name was only whispered behind curtains and upheld hands had made her more than curious.

He was said to be the Queens favourite champion, having saved her bravely several times already from great bodily danger. Some said he was a dangerous womaniser who had taken the honour of many a maiden at court; others claimed he was a cherished lover, doted upon by the richest and mighty of the widowed Ladies.

Whichever it was, he was the man most likely able to help her and she was determined to make him talk.

His behaviour was flawless towards her, like one would expect from a King’s Musketeer, not as estranged as his leader, nor as familiarising as his youngest comrade.

 

“Tell me, Monsieur, do you know anything of Sweden?”

“It snows and is very cold…”

“It will be my home, soon. I wonder if I’ll ever see the warm sun of Italy again…”

He mastered the small talk like he actually cared about the subject and she could find nothing but open warmth and attempted comfort in his eyes.

She decided to make a move, then.

“So, Monsieur le Musketeer,” she started, “ are you accompanying a lot of damsels to their bitter fate?”

“I beg your forgiveness, Madame?” Aramis asked slightly bewildered.

“Please, Monsieur, you know what I mean” she elaborated.

“Madame, I assure you, I have not the faintest idea what you could possibly refer to!” he tried to hedge.

“Isn’t it obvious, Monsieur le Musketeer…”

“Please, Aramis.”

“Isn’t it obvious, Aramis?”

 

Aramis played calmly with the feather of his hat as he first searched her face for any apparent motive, then he looked out of the carriage window, trying to locate Athos. He was nowhere to be seen from his angle opposite her.

He leaned forward towards her on his upholstery and dropped his voice to a confidential level.

“Madame, I am sure I will have to fend off the notion that any suitor the king will have sought out for you might be a bitter fate!” he defended mildly in his most soothing voice, a modest smile curving one side of his lips.

He didn’t like the way this conversation was going, especially when Athos had warned him off.

 

“Ah, come on, Aramis, you know what I mean.”

She was determined to get him into talking to her when nobody else did.

His eyes betrayed his words as he replied mechanically that he had no idea whatsoever.

She slid forward on her seat until the folds of her dress above her knees touched the brim of his hat that he held between his knees.

He moved back, clearly trying to evade her.

“Madame, I am sure you are the envy of all the other ladies at court, to be given such a match. You will not only be royal but rich and famous beyond all borders!”

“I don’t want that, Aramis. I fear this! Look at Ana, Queen Anne, I mean.”

She saw no reaction in his face, so she elaborated.

“She is the Queen of France, but do you think it was easy for her to be forced to marry Louis?”

“Madame, lower your voice! I am really not in the position to answer to such treasonous talk; neither would I be inclined to!”

 

“I’m sorry, Aramis. Take any other woman, forced to marry a man she never met before, just for politics and power.”

She became agitated and wrung her hands in her lap, crushing her kerchief.

“Do you have any idea what it feels like to be a bargain, an add-on to a contract, like an expansive vase to look good around a foreign palace?”

Aramis tried to stop her words by lifting a hand tentatively, extended it towards her shushing her soothingly.

“Shh, Madame…”

“…to live only with the double-purpose to act as a hostage and a breeding mare?”

“Madame, I am sure it is not going to be like that! You will be a beloved wife of the Sovereign of Sweden and mother to adorable children.“

“Yeah, well what else could a woman wish for.”

“I am very sure you’ll get to like it. There is nothing to fear!”

“Isn’t there?”

Aramis was sure they were both talking about the same issue, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to get engaged in this topic, even less with the princess, especially in his current position and with Athos' eagle eyes upon him. He had to try and stop her. She surely wouldn’t be so bold as to talk openly about it.

 

“Madame, what exactly are you asking me here?” he hissed.

“You know exactly what I am asking!” she hissed back.

“No, I absolutely don’t!”

And seeing her sourly pursed lips he added silently “and even if I did, I already told you there was nothing to fear.”

Hope sparked in her eyes as she looked up to him.

“Please, Aramis, tell me this is true.”

“Pardon me?” he asked annoyed.

“That I needn’t fear… being… married. But of course you’d say that. As a man…”

 

She averted her eyes in a distress that was not played. A blush had started creeping up her décolleté and was visible even under her heavy make-up. She was breathing heavily against her corset and her eyes reddened.

Aramis’ rising anger at her for bringing him into this position vaporised. All her courage was gone once the embarrassing words were out. She had been so coquettish and determined to achieve what she wanted before, a typical royal brat in his eyes. And now all he saw under his assessing glare was a frightened innocent girl.

She brought her kerchief up to her eyes, to dab away pooling tears before they could spill.

“Please,” she begged, “tell me something about it.”

Aramis took a deep calming breath. He knew he would come to regret this, thoroughly if Athos found out, later. But how could he turn the girl down. She looked up at him pleadingly from under wet lashes and he decided to comply.

He slid closer, careful that their knees did not touch.

“What do you want to know?”

 

“How it is.”

“What did your Ladies tell you about it?” Aramis asked carefully.

“They told me it is something we have to… endure… on our end of the marriage in order to produce the heirs.”

“Endure…?” Aramis went stiller even as it dawned on him, what it meant for the girl.

He was aware that governesses didn’t encourage girls into being curious about physical relationships as to not add to their risk of being “touched” before marriage, but in preparation of their own wedding night, he did think even royal princesses were entitled to receive some kind of pep talk.

He thought it downright cruel of them, to add to the uncertainty of the poor girl’s future. Not only did she have to leave family and country to live amongst strangers with strange customs in strange lands but also fear what was about to happen to her bodily.

She gulped and blushed even more.

“Yes.” She breathed, looked up at him and quickly averted her eyes again when she saw a mixture of anger and pity she couldn’t quite place.

 

“They told me my husband would mount me in a way he deemed fit,” she whispered “and I should drink as much spirits as I could before and try to think of something else and not so much about it, as it would be hurtful when he… broke into me.”

Her voice left her at the last part and tears welled up in her eyes again.

“They said he’d do that many a night until I got pregnant…” she sobbed into her kerchief.

“Is there any _useful_ advice they bestowed you with at least?” Aramis asked matter-of-factly.

She shook her head.

“They told me things I could say to avoid further visits when I had produced enough heirs…”

 

Aramis had gone cold. There were a lot of things he detested about royalty, but this was a new low.

Being from a low aristocratic family himself, he had grown up a loved child with a noble and warm-hearted mother who had always radiated her love towards his father and her children.

His tutors and the nurses around the house had been nothing but encouraging and comforting, whatever problem or difficulty came up; either towards him and his siblings or any children of the staff around the house. He had grown up with girls, some sisters even and none of them was sent into marriage in fear, no matter how well protected they had been raised beforehand.

His mother herself had always encouraged all the girls to be strong and brave and had taken their fear or dried their tears and given them women’s talks, so had the other woman around the house as far as he knew. And him and the other boys they had taught to be chivalrous and protect and respect women and be nothing but gentle towards them, something Aramis had always observed.

Aramis had adored his mother, he still did although she had died a few years ago. He had always wanted to make her proud and to him that meant to be a perfect gentleman. He liked to be polite overall. He thought that this was part of being noble, always being commendable, diplomatic and protect the weak and helpless. Of course that went double for the fairer sex, as far as he was concerned! He had always been drawn towards beautiful things, intrigued by them, eager to learn how to please them.

He had initially thought what went for the noble had to count double for royalty, but the better he got to know them, the more he witnessed how wrong he had been.

 

Aramis carefully leaned forward and touched her forearm soothingly with a still gloved hand.

“Madame, I am so sorry for your anxiety. Please, I am confident that you will have nothing to fear and will love your life in Sweden!”

“How can I believe you, Monsieur, after their oblivious dislike for that matter?”

“You have to understand that they were most probably just trying to keep you unaware to protect you which might be a discussable proceeding…”

“Unaware? No. The topic was open on the table in my preparation for my marriage and I have seen the truth of their disregard in several Ladies’ eyes.”

“What can I say, Madame, not every relationship is the same, some might really dislike theirs, but that should not dispirit you...”

She interrupted him midsentence.

 

“Aramis, may I ask you something?”

“Of course, Madame!”

She laid her other hand on his one still cupping her arm.

“Will you promise me to tell me the truth?”

“Of course, Madame.”

Aramis wasn’t too sure if he didn’t just promise something he’d regret, but his words had come out naturally, as by themselves, without any hesitation. His belief in his God was strong and he tried to honour it with being always true to what he thought right. Although he knew he was on the best way to talk himself into trouble, here. He reached for his cross and sent a silent prayer heavenward.

 

“Why do you have a reputation much esteemed amongst Ladies of the French Court for something that every woman wife and governess of my court tells me will be a hardship to endure?”

Aramis nearly choked on his breath. For once he was speechless.

“I don’t want to hear that the information is not true and I don’t want to hear evasions regarding your person. I am merely interested, in the why. There _is_ something I am not told about.”

“Madame… I already told you, it isn’t that bad.”

“Excuse me, but I feel this must be an understatement. Aramis, I can see that you don’t want to speak openly, but please, I beg you as Louise, a friend who’s only and last hopes are set upon you, enlighten me, you promised!”

“Louise,” he whispered “you’ll have to promise me that you will never tell anyone that we talked about this!”

She nodded solemnly and shuffled closer.

 

“The physics you were told are true.”

She gulped. Her big eyes were glued to his lips.

“If you haven’t seen an aroused man before, it might frighten you at first. But don’t be. Remember the Ladies you heard talking about me, they love it like that, remember this! If you overcome your resentments and try and be open for the unknown, I am sure, you’ll come to love it as well, if you just let yourself.”

The look she gave him was unbelieving but curious.

“It is also true that your husband will mount you, or maybe he’ll let you mount him. There are no rules to carnal love, you’ll see what you both prefer in due time. Just don’t do as your ladies said. The more you draw yourself away from it, the less your husband will be able to give you pleasure with it.”

“Pleasure?” she still looked lost, but gorgeously flushed and with hope dawning in the back of her eyes.

Aramis took her hands in his and squeezed them lightly, encouraging.

“Yes, Madam, it is called ‘making love’ for a reason. If your husband is not a complete fool and you relax and bring yourself in, it will certainly give you great pleasure, as much as your husband.”

She didn’t look much convinced so far, but her eyes dropped to his gloved strong fingers holding her hand, warm, steady and the soft suede felt like silk velvet on her own trembling frail hands.

“But the pain…”

“It will most likely hurt a bit if your husband enters you for the first time as there is a thin skin protecting your honour. Tearing it will bleed a little which will be proof for your husband that you enter that marriage untouched and supposedly confirm that any produced offspring are his…. But don’t focus too much on this; it really does not hurt much, depending on how much time your husband spent on preparing you for it.”

 

She still looked at him with eyes huge as those of a fawn caught in torch light.

“You know, the act of the man entering the woman is not just done to produce heirs, the ladies you heard whispering about it spoke as they did because they experienced pleasure whilst, because they love it, they lust after it, even.”

He stroked her palms softly with his fingers.

“Most men aren’t monsters who just want to hurt women. They enjoy giving pleasure as much as taking it, believe me!”

 

The carriage stopped abruptly and Athos pulled its door open with more force than necessary.

 

“Excuse us, Madame.” He said with a pressed voice just controlled as much as necessary to get the words out without shouting in the presence of the princess but enough to let everyone know the immense grade of his annoyance.

 

He grabbed Aramis’ arm and pulled him out of the carriage, slamming the door shut behind him and dragged him a few paces away, where Porthos waited with his horse.

“Get off your bloody horse and into the carriage” he drawled with the cold bored aristocratic voice of his that masked all emotions. Were it not for the use of the ‘bloody’ and the way he dragged Aramis behind him, Porthos might not have noticed anything off.

As it was he rapidly jumped off his mount and marched over to the carriage without another word.

Athos motioned Aramis to mount Porthos’ horse and turned to his own as he felt Aramis’ longing gaze towards his own steed, still bound behind the carriage, which snorted disgruntledly that moment. Athos shot him a glare that made it clear he was not in the mood for the slightest objection and Aramis complied silently.

 

As soon as he was in the saddle, Athos gripped Porthos horse by the rein next to its head and pulled it around with him while motioning the carter to proceed ahead on their way whereas he steered the two of them to the end of their trek and let them fall behind far enough that they couldn’t be heard by the rest of their group.

“Aramis!” Athos spat furiously; the sound of the name pronounced like the lowest profanity.

Aramis looked back defiantly.

Athos scowled at him. What the hell is WRONG with you? He wanted to scream. What did I say before I send you in there?! But that was also something he had just said with his eyes and not out loud, like now exactly. He wanted to shout at Aramis, grab him by his lapels and shake some sense into him.

Instead of all that he just looked at him questioningly. His face alone transporting the message how fed up he was with all of Aramis’ capriciousness.

 

He studied Aramis face minutely searching for something. Remorse, provocation, he wasn’t sure which he’d prefer to find.

But what happened was the same as always when he looked into the handsome features of his brother-in-arms. As soon as he looked into his deep dark eyes he lost himself in them, and when he avoided looking up into them he got lost in his own thoughts while staring at his delicate Cupid’s bow. His anger vaporised.

“Why, Aramis?” he just asked wearyly.

 

“Athos,” Aramis started with no hint of remorse in his voice and Athos sighed, well aware that he was about to be drowned in vindications.

Athos cut him short.

“No, Aramis, I mean it. Why can’t you just for once stay clear of this?!”

“She is terrified of her wedding night, Athos! She begged me to!”

 

“I don’t want to know how you even managed to encourage this sort of conversation, Aramis, but the only answer to whatever she may have asked you is ‘no’!”

“Your answer to her asking to talk about this should have been ‘no’!”

“Damn, it, Aramis, whenever any woman just as much as makes a statement about any kind of topic that could be interpreted as however suggestive, the answer must be ‘NO’!”

 

“But Athos, you should have seen the poor girl crying, it melted my heart! I couldn’t let her go into marriage afraid like that.”

“Yes, you could and you should have! Most probably her fear is absolutely right placed and you did not do her any favour at all, have you thought about that?!”

“Athos!”

“What, Aramis?” Athos hissed viciously, “What _do_  you really know about the so-called royal and noble men, huh? Tell me!”

 

 

 


	2. "Tell me, Aramis, do you know anything about the so-called noble men?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos explains noble men to Aramis and Louise gets back to Aramis for some useful advice regarding her wedding night. He gives her such, of course.

Athos was so sick of it.

Why was it always Aramis who had to play the knight in shining armour?

Hadn’t his romantic-hero-acting brought him enough trouble already?!

 

“Aramis, _you_ of all people should know that the men riding the white horses are usually _not_ the fairy tale princes the girls wish for!”

“But Athos,” Aramis tried to reason, “You certainly don’t want to convince me that noble men cannot be good lovers…”

 

There it was again. That look!

Aramis’ inquiring stare was demanding as well as accusatory.

Something more flickered in his eyes and Athos couldn’t determine where this was directed at.

It reminded him of a cat flicking its tail while targeting prey somewhere in the dark he himself couldn’t see. 

 

Anybody else would have earned himself the full stare-down for this, which Athos always won, but Athos couldn’t risk Aramis seeing what the mixture of him and that explicit topic might wake in the thick fog that was his mind.

He wouldn’t be able to stand the disgust that would surely ascend slowly in Aramis eyes when it would dawn on him that this was really the wrong topic to tease him with, so he averted his eyes.

Athos wished Aramis would just stop looking at him as if he had invented all evil on earth.

He might have invited such unknowingly into his life, but that was only because he had been naïve and young; it wouldn’t happen again.

He reached for the wine skin hanging from his saddle and took a long swig to wash away the bad feeling that crept up his throat.

 

“I grew up the first son of a Count, Aramis. You didn’t!”

“That doesn’t mean you and your kind have to indispensably become bad lovers!

I am sure as the firstborn of a Lord you wouldn’t lack possibilities to enhance your skills!

I can just imagine that there must have been incomparably more maiden who would have offered themselves to someone like you as for example to me!” Aramis tried.

“Tsk!” Athos scoffed. A man like he had been did not  _need_ to learn to please women. 

“ _Ius primae noctis_ , mon ami! It is every Lord’s damned _right_ to have the first night with every maiden on their goddamn lands, Aramis!

You of all people should know!

You were there, in Pinon. It was _you_ who saved the maiden - Jeanne - from her first night with Edmond and his party!

Did it _seem_ to you that she was looking forward to a first time with a skilled lover?!"

 

"Only because Renard's son was a brute and an asshole doesn't mean every man would be like that."

"It is what power does to people, Aramis, they become assholes!"

"I am pretty sure you wouldn't have done this, Athos."

 

That reverent look on Aramis' face...

Athos took another swig from his skin, why the hell was he doing this to him, again.

Athos indulged in another fit of self-loathing.

How the hell could this unprofane man not see that he didn't know him at all, that he judged him completely wrong and that he didn't deserve his faith in him at all...?

He kept his eyes on the road so he didn't need to look in Aramis ever trusting eyes again.

 

"Every girl I would have touched would have complied, naturally, in utter fear what would happen to her... otherwise.

Whatever I would have done, they would have _pretended_ to like it anyways."

 

“But you did love and marry a woman once…”

 

Of course this conversation had to lead up to this.

 

The anger that he couldn’t focus on Aramis rose again, because he couldn’t detest his friend but he could _hate_ everything about her wholeheartedly!

And it showed as he looked back at his comrade, it was burning in his eyes and poisoned his voice as he spoke.

 

“I _thought_ I loved, and I _thought_ she loved me back, _nothing_ was real, you know what it brought me!” …my brother died, my life died, the only thing that _should_ have died yet lives...

"I am _not_ going to talk about her - not with you - not with anyone!"

With that he galloped off.

 

At the inn they stopped for the night it was Porthos who had been left to guard the princess. Aramis was at the stables and brushed his horse himself, firstly because he wanted to make up to it for leaving it bound behind the carriage and riding Porthos' horse, because he knew his stallion hated that and would be grumpy with him for days and secondly because he wanted to avoid having to sit with Athos in the guestroom.

He was better left in D'Artagnan's company when he was that sulky, lately.

 

Aramis was checking his steed's hooves in the glint of a lantern again when the horse fidgeted announcing company.

He recognised the rustle of fine female skirts and addressed her without turning around.

 

"Did Porthos fall asleep in front of your door?"

"Ah, Monsieur Aramis, you know your company better than your leader it seems."

"You cannot be here, Madame, please go back to bed."

"Not until you delivered on your promise, Aramis. We were interrupted this afternoon."

 

"Please Madame; my judgement might have been wrong. It is for the better the way it is. Just leave it be, I beg you!"

"Louise, Aramis, did you forget? I need you as the only friend I have left."

 

She drew nearer but stepped hastily back as Aramis' nervous horse flattened its ears and showed open hostility towards her.

Aramis gently stroked his steed's crest and stepped out of the box towards her, fearing she might be bitten if she came any closer.

 

"Louise, I told you everything, please. Let me accompany you back inside."

"No, Aramis, just one more question, then I'll go, I promise."

She turned around and ran playfully towards the carriage that was parked inside the spacious stables.

Aramis sighed surrendering, took the lantern, and flicked the stable boy a coin, motioning him to vacate his position in the hay for the time being. Then he took his hat and the weapons he had left beside his horse, rubbed its nose good night and went after her.

 

He climbed into the carriage behind her and made himself comfortable; they both knew she wouldn't comply and go back after her question.

 

"Your one question, then."

"Aramis," she crooned, "you told me your secret was giving pleasure..." she eyed him curiously, but his face was absolutely neutral.

"You told me, it wouldn’t hurt so much, if I was 'prepared' for being breached..." she saw his jaw muscles jump as he gritted his teeth.

"You asked, if I was given some _useful_ advice and I told you I wasn't."

"Your question?"

"I ask you herewith to give me that useful advice and tell me how to prepare myself and experience pleasure."

 

Aramis let out the breath he had been holding and raked his hand through his hair.

He looked at her pretty face, it was his own fault; he had this coming. Why couldn't he for once listen to Athos?

On the other hand, this was what he would have wished any girl to have been given as knowledge, purely theoretically and by a lady of her confidence, of course, but how could he deny her that one understandable wish.

 "Fair enough." He said and smiled gently.

 

He had put his hat, belts and weaponry on the seat beside where he lounged lasciviously on his bench and started now unbuttoning his coat never leaving her with his eyes.

She had thrown a warm cape around her shoulders before she had come down and was now huddling back into the corner of her bench, wrapping herself firmer into it.

Aramis shrugged out of his coat, put it on the pile with the rest of his gear and changed benches, sitting next to her, his back to the other corner of the wagon.

 

“Don’t be afraid, I won’t do anything that you don’t want or that could compromise you.”

He laid his hand next to her knee and watched her, smiling at the slow rise of a deep flush.

“I can escort you back inside anytime, Louise; you don’t need to do this…”

“No!” she interrupted urgently, “No, I want to proceed!”

 

“May I?” Aramis asked and waited for her faint nod before he took her hand from where it clutched at the cape before her chest.

He brought her knuckles up to his lips and kissed them lightly.

 

“In order to experience pleasure it is vital that you feel confident about yourself and your body. Don’t be afraid of exploring yourself. You can carefully touch yourself and make yourself feel good.”

“Have you ever touched yourself, Louise?”

The crimson red on her cheeks grew even deeper and she shook her head hastily.

“Let’s try it then.”

 

Aramis cupped her hand with his and moved it down to her knee. He then gathered up her skirts with a practised move of his other hand and let them pool up in her lap.

Slowly he moved her hand so that she brushed it along her thigh a few handbreadth above her knee and back.

“Don’t be shy. Stroke the inside of your leg, feel your skin, how smooth it is.”

He slid closer towards her to get a better angle to guide her hand further upwards. He felt her stiffen up for a moment, but after a minute she relaxed her hand under his and let him guide her hand stroking her thigh up.

“That’s good,” Aramis murmured with his most soothing voice, “feel your skin, relax. Don’t think about your fears; just enjoy the sensation of your soft skirts sliding up your legs. Don’t forget to breathe!”

She took a deep breath and he heard her shivering in her weak exhale, felt her hand shivering beneath his own still gloved one.

“Relax, breathe!”  


He waited until her breathing became steadier.

Then he slowly moved her hand further until they both cupped her mound.

 

Her hand twitched under his fingers, she wanted to draw her hand away, but he held her hand in place; calm and unmoving.

She tried to get some leverage with her free arm to draw herself up in her seat but as the movement pressed her abdomen further into their combined hands she just gasped lost her grip against the wall and slumped further back into her carriage corner, leaving her lower half even more exposed.

 

“Shhh, don’t squirm. Here, feel yourself!” Aramis said and guided her fingers sliding lightly back and forth along her vulva.

“Does it hurt?” He asked her, taking in her timid pose against the back of the carriage.

“No…” She said reluctantly.

“Are you ready for me to take my gloves off?”

 

She didn’t answer to that but he didn’t see any denial in her face either, so he moved to sit a little further away from her on the same bench turning towards her and making a show of slowly pulling off his suede gloves.

He tossed them on the heap of his stuff on the other bench without looking and then pulled her leg closer to him and hoisted it over his lap so that he came to sit between her legs.

She had started panting heavily against her corset, squeezing her breasts against it with each deep drag of air and tried to crouch further back, away from Aramis. But caught between the carriage corner and Aramis’ grip on her leg she just slid another bit lower exposing her sex completely towards him. 

Aramis had to rein in his hunting instinct at her reaction and control the predatory smirk that wanted to curl his lips upwards. He had to stay back and be supportive only.

 

“Louise, listen to me. You are completely safe. You asked me to show you, remember?” Come, give me your hand.”

She composed herself and gave him her hand again, wincing at first at the warm touch of his now naked hand. He held her hand firmly for a moment, giving her time to get used to the feeling of his skin on hers, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

Then he brought their entwined hands back down between her legs and pushed her fingers against her lips, letting them slide softly along them.

After a moment, when he saw her respond to the touch, he increased his pressure and guided her middle finger between them, making her flinch as she reached her clitoris.

 

“This is it,” Aramis explained, “this little bud is the centre of your pleasure!

You can touch it, stroke it, and learn to get your sexual fulfilment just from teasing it.”

She closed her eyes and sighed as he let her middle finger toy with her clit.

“Yes,” Aramis whispered, “allow yourself to unleash your feelings!”

He slid off the bench and knelt on the carriage floor between the benches as well as between her legs. He used his left hand to grip her hip and his right to increase his grip on her fingers. Made her hand move back to circle her gap and slide slowly through the folds between her inner lips forward to circle her clit again.

Aramis repeated that slow circle and watched her; waited until she relaxed against the carriage wall before he moved in and kissed her mons veneris.

Louise was startled by the sudden unfamiliar touch, cried out and opened her eyes but  Aramis didn’t stop and just held her frightened gaze as he moved his lips lower until he kissed her outer lips.

 

He released her hand and grasped her hips with both hands drawing her further down, towards him. As soon as her hand was freed, she grabbed his shoulder to steady herself or just try and push against him and gasped open mouthed as his tongue delved between her lips.

“Aramis!” she begged as if to stop him, but there was no stopping for him now. He licked a path between her inner lips to her hole and scooped in, feeling her juices starting to flow and something else.       

He sucked his path back to her pearl, dragging along the tip of his tongue the silky vaginal slime that started to flow then, to ease his way as he lapped her vulva thoroughly.

 

She stopped pushing against him and just grabbed his shoulder fiercely and finally couldn’t stop a moan escaping her. Aramis took this as his signal to ravish her sex whole and suck her bud into his mouth. He heard her drop her head hard against the carriage wall as he scraped his teeth against her clit and increased the suckling.

 

Aramis alternated between sucking and licking until her moans became rhythmically her sex was heavily flushed and swollen and her juices ran down his beard by then.

She was close.

He dove his tongue into her again drawing from her a squeal that made him smile against her and confirmed his earlier find.

He dragged his tongue back against her clit and she came as he circled it skilfully.

“Oh dear God!” she panted and came and came as he held his tongue pressed against her during her release.

Aramis sat back, pulled out his hand kerchief and cleaned his beard.

 

He masked his feelings with his usual nonchalant smile, shrugged on his coat, picked up the rest of his stuff and showed the way out with his hat.

As the woman looked at him in confusion he helped her to her feet, stepped out of the carriage and reached a hand to help her out.

“I’ll escort you back in, come-on.”

“Aramis,” she started confused “what…”

But he just shook his head and motioned her to be still.   

“I answered your question,” Aramis whispered.

“Just tell me you’ll keep your side of the promise!”

The woman nodded, not recalling what that actually was.

 

She obviously wanted to know what his sudden change of behaviour was about, but she kept quiet and Aramis just hurried her back in through the kitchen and up to her room the same way she had obviously escaped. Porthos sat next to her door fast asleep and didn’t wake as he shoved her back into her room and closed the door behind her.

Then he kicked against a leg of his stool to wake him and went back out the way he came. He didn’t want to face any of his comrades right then; he smelled of woman and needed fresh air to think.

Back at the stable he found a bucket full of water, washed his face and sighed deeply as he heard someone approach.

Athos by the lazy sway.

He dried his face with his sash and turned.

 

Athos looked at him, saying nothing.

Aramis looked back but broke eye contact after a while concentrating on the sash that he bound around his midst again.

Athos eyes had dropped at his movement and lingered where the folds of Aramis’ coat hid his crotch again, then.

 

“You haven’t taken your release…” he stated the obvious, “why?”

Aramis moved to sit on the stable lad’s bench in front of the horseboxes.

Athos hesitated for a second but then moved to sit beside him.

 

“This wasn’t about me.” Aramis answered.

“Aramis, need I ask if you risked us getting hanged…, again?”

“Athos, please!”

“What is it, then?”

“We risk getting hanged anyways.”

Athos exhaled deeply, leaned back against the box and stretched his legs in front of him. He wasn’t going to go anywhere until Aramis told him everything. He should have brought wine. 

 

“She is no virgin, Athos.”

“Do I want to know how you found out?!”

“Athos…”

“Sometimes, girls are already scored by some spirited pastime, like horse-riding.“

“There is a huge difference in a girl's maidenhead being injured by something like that or breached by penetration.”

 

Athos grew cold as it dawned on him. He should have seen it come the way she had played Aramis’ weakness, the way she had coerced Aramis to be with her.

The girl most probably had dallied around with her companion for all he knew, and now needed someone to blame for her violation. Aramis was the perfect victim with his reputation.

He should have known, should have stayed where he belonged, with Aramis, instead of sulking inside. He had been so stupid, again!

 

“Do you think Louise will tell the king?”

“I don’t think that she is the king’s cousin, Louise, at all…”

 

Athos raised an eyebrow at Aramis and Aramis just shrugged back lifting the left corner of his mouth into a dirty smile.

“I might not know much about the noble men, but I do know quite a bit about noble women!”

He winked at Athos and leaned back to mirror his position, smiling to himself smugly.

Athos shook his head about Aramis but couldn’t suppress his smile after all. The other half he could still help with… in due time.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter was posted after the episode had already aired but I refrain from changing anything in the first chapter which was released before the episode. So please excuse anything that doesn't fit into this continuity with Louise not being Louise after all.
> 
> Also for dramatic reasons I assume that the Ius Primae Noctis did actually exist in France at that time which is highly speculative, to say at least...


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